The survivors gathered in the next nearest safe zone, a functioning settlement that had been their only option after discovering the destruction of Oyster Bay safe zone. The five groups—Bob's crew, The Hounds, The Okada Family, the Hayashi Twins, and the DMW Gang—had arrived together, but their unity was already beginning to fracture.
Bob's crew stood apart from the others. Bob wasn't the kind of guy who lingered after a fight—unless there was another one waiting. Gabe was adjusting his radio, tweaking the dials. He'd picked it up in a trade a few days back, exchanging a few small Pink Fragments for a sturdy military-style model. The signal was strong, the range better than most. Iris sat on a chunk of rubble nearby, arms crossed, quietly watching the streets ahead. Sly, still sore from the fight, shifted his weight while looking around.
The Hayashi Twins were gone. No one was surprised. They had slipped away the moment they arrived, disappearing into the new settlement without a word. The DMW Gang had also left, but not quietly. They had stormed off, still cursing the government, blaming them for everything that had happened. Their anger had only deepened, and Bob figured it was only a matter of time before they made more trouble for themselves.
"Alright, listen up." Marcus's voice cut through the tense silence. He stood with his arms crossed, his usual no-nonsense look in place. "Oyster Bay's done. We'll be heading back to report in."
He looked around at the remaining crews. "I understand you've all got your own things to handle. Let's go our separate ways—for now."
Bob wasn't about to argue. He didn't like working with too many people. Too much talking, too many different ideas. He just wanted to get moving.
Marcus then added, "By the way—Gabe and I talked. He's setting up a private frequency. Secure, encrypted. Anyone who wants to stay in touch, trade intel, call for backup—use it. No commands. Just a way for us to communicate."
Gabe gave a small nod and stepped forward. "Yeah. I've already locked down a secure frequency—encrypted, short-range, but clean. It's not for orders, just info. If anyone finds a safe path, spots a Fade pack, or hears something from the safe zones, you can drop it in. Need help? Call for it. But you don't owe anyone anything. Just a way to stay connected."
Iris raised an eyebrow. "So… it's like a chat group?"
Gabe nodded. "Pretty much. We won't be traveling together, and that's fine. But with this, we can still share routes, Fade sightings, safe zones or faction activities—whatever matters. Stay connected without stepping on each other's toes."
Marcus gave a small nod. "It's smart. Better than wandering blind through the Pink Fog."
Noah exchanged a glance with his crew, then nodded. "We're in. You helped us deal with Kuroda faction. That's enough for me."
Bob shrugged. "Sure. Just don't count on us to drop everything if someone needs saving."
Marcus smirked faintly. "Wouldn't expect anything else."
He turned to his squad. "Anyway, the Hounds are heading out. Time to report back."
Bob raised an eyebrow. "Another boss fight?"
Marcus didn't take the bait. "Doesn't matter. We go where we're needed."
Before anyone could speak, Elias Crowe stepped forward. "Then I'll go with you."
Everyone turned to look at the former mayor. He still carried himself like a leader, but the fall of Oyster Bay had stripped him of authority. His safe zone was gone. His title meant nothing now.
Marcus narrowed his eyes. "You sure about that?"
Elias nodded. "I have nothing left here. If the government still has a purpose, I'll find mine in it."
Marcus gave a short nod. "You can come. The government will assess you once we're back—see where you fit and what you're capable of. Just don't expect special treatment."
Elias didn't hesitate. "Understood."
That was that.
Gabe handed out the radio frequencies, making sure everyone had access. One by one, people tested their connections, brief static bursts filling the air as voices crackled through the secured line.
First message: Marcus. "Comms are good on our end."
Second message: Noah. "Clear here too."
Bob rolled his eyes. "You guys always this dramatic on a mic check?" He clicked his radio. "We're good. Just don't clog the channel."
With that, the groups began to part ways. One by one, they disappeared into the landscape, heading toward different destinations. Some toward safety, some toward battle.
Bob's crew stood for a moment, watching them go.
Sly shifted his stance. "So, what's our plan?"
Bob stretched, then grinned. "We walk our own path. Like always."
Bob's crew also didn't linger. Decisions were made, goodbyes said. They moved on, crossing into the fog without a word.
By the time the others had fully dispersed, Bob's focus was already ahead. They'd put distance between themselves and the last safe zone, arriving at a smaller settlement—just a stopover. Another waypoint on a road that never really ended.
Sly let out a breath, stretching his arms. "So, we're really doing this? Just us?"
Bob gave him a look. "What, you are having second thoughts?"
Sly smirked. "Hell no. Just making sure you're not."
Iris watched the buildings roll past, arms crossed. "It's weird. We went through all that—fought together, nearly died—and now everyone's just... gone. Back to their own paths."
Gabe nodded. "Yeah. That's how it goes out here—you stick with the ones you trust. Hopefully, 'the Web' keeps the rest within reach when it counts."
Bob let out a breath, cracking his knuckles. "Cool. Group hug over? We've got the fancy radio, we are still alive, no need to drag this out like some tragic farewell episode."
Gabe shot him a look. "Says the guy who keeps checking the radio like someone's gonna call just to say they miss you. I think you're more dramatic than the rest of us."
Bob shrugged. "Hey, maybe they forgot something, that's why I'm checking. Could've left a sock behind or something important. Who knows, right?"
Gabe exhaled through his nose. "Reasons."
With that, they moved through the safe zone, not intending to stay long. It wasn't home. Nowhere was, not really. They had a mission: get Iris to her parents. Everything else was just noise.
As they moved, Gabe adjusted his radio, making sure it was locked on their encrypted frequency. Static crackled for a moment before clearing up. It wasn't long before the first real transmission came through.
"Anyone picking this up?" Marcus's voice cut through, steady and sharp.
Gabe clicked his radio. "Loud and clear."
"Good. We just had a run-in with a few scavengers. They were armed but didn't attack—looked like they were keeping watch over a resource cache. Keep an eye out. Could be more of them in the area."
Bob scoffed and reached for the radio. "Or, hear me out… We just go over there and take their stuff."
Marcus started to respond, but Gabe yanked the radio back. "Absolutely not. The whole point of 'The Web' is not to make unnecessary enemies."
Bob grabbed it again. "Okay, fine, whatever. But if they come after us first—"
Gabe snatched it back immediately. "Still no."
Bob took it right back. "I wasn't done talking."
Sly, shaking his head, grabbed the radio mid-sentence. "I swear, if you two keep treating this thing like a game of hot potato, I'm throwing it in a river."
Bob huffed but took the radio one last time, muttering, "Fine. But if they come after us first, I'm taking a souvenir."
Another voice cut in—Noah. "Okada Family is making a stop at a safe zone taking in survivors before heading back home. We've got limited supplies but we're holding strong. If anyone needs a stop, I'll send coordinates."
Gabe nodded to himself. "Good to know."
The radio stayed quiet for a few seconds before Marcus's voice returned, lower this time. "If you run into Red Hands, don't engage. Just report it."
Bob rolled his eyes and lifted the radio. "Sure, I'll just wave at them and walk the—"
Gabe, moving faster than expected, snatched it right out of his hand. "No, you won't."
Bob blinked, then looked at his empty hand. "Did you just—?"
Gabe clipped the radio to his belt. "You've lost your talking privileges for the next five minutes."
Marcus clearly wasn't in the mood for Bob's humor. "They're hunting something, and I don't think it's Fades."
That shut everyone up for a moment.
Iris tightened her grip on the ring. "Then we'd better stay out of their way."
Sly glanced at Bob. "You got a plan?"
Bob grinned. "Same as always. Move forward, deal with whatever's in the way."
Sly chuckled. "That's not a plan."
Bob started walking. "Yeah, but it's working so far."
With that, the crew disappeared down the road, leaving the static hum of the radio behind them. 'The Web' was woven, but their journey was just beginning.
As they passed through the settlement, Bob noticed a few figures moving near the entrance/exit. At first, he didn't think much of it—just another group of survivors checking in. But then he caught the emblem on their uniforms. Red Hands.
Gabe, who had been idly scanning the area, stiffened. "We've got a problem."
The Red Hands were talking to the local guards, showing a sketch of a towering figure—broad shoulders, massive frame. A crude but unmistakable image of Bob.
"They're looking for a big guy. A Goliath," Iris muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Bob grinned. "Well, I do stand out."
Sly wasn't smiling. "Yeah—and they're not looking to admire your height. We need to move before they find us."
It didn't take long to figure it out. The so-called safe zone Bob wrecked when they saved Sly had Red Hands markings all over it. At the time, they thought it was just another hostile camp—but now they knew better. It was part of a larger network. And that network was coming for them.
Gabe clicked his radio off. "We need to move. Now. Before they realize we're already here."